


Purple

by Rorynne



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Multi, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rorynne/pseuds/Rorynne
Summary: Almost everyone grows up unable to see their soulmates favorite color. For you, that was purple. So what happens when you spot a clumsy man in your favorite cafe, wearing the weirdest shirt youve ever seen?Clint Barton Bingo Fill: Soulmates





	Purple

**Author's Note:**

> Im posting this from my phone currently so if there are any formatting errors my apologies.

You sighed as you squinted at your phone, trying your absolute best to help your friend decide what color she should use for her wedding. She had narrowed it down to two colors: blue and… purple. AKA, the only color you couldn't see. And this particular shade of it managed to look exactly like the blue to you.

A certain level of color blindness was pretty common, almost everyone was born unable to see their soulmate's favorite color. A phenomenon that was only cured the moment you saw your soulmate for the first time. Of course, some people didn't have a soulmate, or their soulmate didn't have a favorite color. They were either blessed or cursed, depending on who you asked. Right now, you were leaning on the side of blessed. 

You set your phone down with a frustrated shake of your head. It wasn't often your soulmate's favorite color gave you such grief, purple wasn't exactly the world's most common color after all. You rarely even thought of it honestly, not like how some people worried about it at least. You figured if you met them, then you met them, if not, oh well. You were never too partial to any color anyway, so you doubted you were really missing out on much.

A loud crash drew you out of your reverie, pulling your attention to a tall blond man frantically trying to pick up the straw dispenser and recollect the straws spilled from it. The red-headed woman next to him rolled her eyes, saying something you didn't quite catch. You were too focused on his shirt to properly eavesdrop on whatever she was saying.

His short was, probably, the strangest thing you had ever seen. A plain Tshirt in a shade you had never seen before, almost like someone royally fucked up the color blue. You watched him like he had grown three extra heads in the span of a minute, earning a curious look from the woman he was with as they sat down barely a table away.

His shirt color was actually pretty nice you decided, you liked it, and it looked shockingly good on him. You wondered if it was some kind of designer color, like the blackest black or pinkest pink that people had taken to trying to make. Whatever it was, you liked it, especially on him. You took a sip of your coffee as you continued to watch him.

Attractive as hell might have been an understatement, tall and muscular with a relaxed smirk of a smile as he talked to the redhead. He gestured with his heavily bandaged hand as he took a drink from his cup using the other, equally bandaged hand. From the looks of it, he was prone to accidents. "I'm telling you, Kate is great, you'd love her. Last week she-" The man cut off mid-sentence when he glanced down at his shirt, doing a double-take before exclaiming, "What the fuck happened to my shirt?" He looked back at the straw dispenser as if it was potentially the cause of this mystery.

The woman shook her head, a bemused eyebrow raised, "Nothing's happened to your shirt Clint."

The man, Clint, held up some of the fabric in distress, "What are you talking about? It's blue!"

"Still looks purple to me." She said calmly with a shrug, sipping her own drinking. Your jaw dropped. That was purple? You scrambled to pick up your phone, to look at the color swatches your friend had sent. Sure enough, there sat two distinctly different colors on your screen, blue and what you now knew to be purple. "Maybe your soulmate has a new favorite color?" She offered with a teasing smile.

He gave her a look as if the very concept were ridiculous. "We both know I don't have a soul mate Tasha." You're heart skipped. Of course, he would think that, you didn't have a favorite color. Until now.

"Maybe they just picked one today." She said to him, but you swore to god she was looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

Clint's face wavered, clearly considering the possibility that 'Tasha' was right. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Aw, soulmate, no. Why do you have to have good taste?"

"You know," she said, now you were positive she was looking at you. "They wouldn't even know what purple looks like unless they saw you."

Clint lifted his face from his hands, mouth agape. Your own heart rate felt like it doubled. This man was your soulmate, and you both were just sitting there frozen in place like idiots. "Then that means…" He trailed off as his brain started to fully understand what the woman had meant.

"They might still be here." She nodded, cocking her head towards you. Your eyes went wide, she knew. Of course, she fucking knew, you had only been staring at them like a deer in headlights for the past fifteen minutes. The moment Clint followed the direction of the woman's head to you, you panicked, jolting up from your seat as your face flushed red.

You weren't sure why you ran, maybe the realization of meeting your soulmate felt all too real to you, but you did run. You heard the man swear and the clatter of a chair before a holler of "Wait!" But you didn't stop, rushing out of the cafe doors before he could manage to say anything more. You were halfway down the street when a hand wrapped firmly around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "Please wait." He pleaded again, nowhere near as out of breath as you were.

You looked up at him, panting for breath, unsure of what to say. What does someone even say to their soulmate? "I'm sorry I-"

"D'you like purple?" He asked, interrupting you and jarring your train of thought. You blinked and nodded, eyes wide. He nodded in return, "Great because I didn't want to spend the rest of my life unable to see my favorite color." Your heart cracked at his words. It wasn't unheard of for soulmates to decide not to pursue each other. After all, just because you were someone's soul mate, that didn't mean you necessarily loved each other, romantically speaking. Platonic soulmates were a thing, as rare as they were. But to hear your soulmate cared more about his favorite color than you, hurt. It hurt a lot.

"You didn't need to chase me out of the cafe for that." You said, voice wavering slightly.

His eyes went wide when he realized what he said. He swore and shook his head. "That's not what I meant I-" He shook his head again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sweetheart, I'm still getting used to the idea that I have a soulmate, I didn't-" He cut himself off again, rubbing his face and muttering something that sounded like 'stop making a fool of yourself.' "Clint." He said abruptly, "My name is Clint. Do you want to go get a coffee?"

"I just had coffee." You said dumbly, immediately you wanted to kick yourself. Who was making a fool of themself now?

Clint sighed, "Lunch then…" he trailed off as if silently asking for your name.

"Y/N!" You blurted out, face warming. Who forgets to tell their soulmate their name? "It's Y/N, and yeah," you nodded, "lunch would be great."

"Great." He grinned, enough to make your stomach flip. You could get used to your soul mate having a smile like that. "That's great. I know where we can get the best pizza in New York."


End file.
